


Revenge in the form of a time loop

by Madame_Xela



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: AU, Dysfunctional Family, Fluff, Implied Torture, John is stubborn, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, Overprotective Gabriel, Ownership, Possible Mpreg, Powerful Harry, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Slash, Some angst, Threesome, Wincest - Freeform, bobby is awesome, mentions of past adoption, ooc, overprotective crowley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-01
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-13 07:17:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madame_Xela/pseuds/Madame_Xela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Gabriel stuck Sam in the time loop, he had more on his mind than just teaching him a lesson. He wanted revenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Starts in Season 3 episode 11: The Mystery Spot.  
> This is an AU so there will be a lot more Crowley and Gabriel.

_"Dad I can't believe you! My magic is a part of me, I can't just stop using it!"_

_"Yes you can! Just stop using spells Harry!"_

_"It's not that simple! Missouri said-"_

_"I DON'T CARE WHAT MISSOURI SAID! Either you stop using magic and be a proper hunter, or you walk right out that door."_

_"Dad!"_

_"Sammy, Dean, It's okay. I'll keep in touch."_

*

"Okay, here's the deal Sam, I put you here because you needed to be taught a lesson." The trickster said as he leaned against the wall behind him. 

Sam raised an eyebrow. "A lesson. Really?"

"Ah-yup. Two of them really. But anyway, Sam this is what life is going to be like without Dean."

"What?" Staring incredulously at the shorter man in front of him, Sam tried to decide what he wanted to do more: shoot him in the head, then stake him or stake the trickster then shoot him. 

"Yeah. Tell you what. I'm going to snap my fingers. When I do, you're going to get into the Impala and go to the address that's in your pants pocket." 

"And why would I do that?" 

The trickster smiled and snapped his fingers. 

*

Sam's eyes snapped open.

*

"You know... if I wasn't certain that Harry was going to kill you before, I definitely am now." The slightly shorter demon stepped over to Gabriel and handed him one of his favorite lollipops. 

Gabriel rolled his eyes.

Shaking his head, Crowley tugged Gabriel against his side so he could whisper in his ear. "I'm not going to be the one to tell Harry that you invited his brothers over for dinner."


	2. Antiques

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any mistakes. And the lack of Harry and Crowley and Gabe in this chapter.

"Sammy, I don't get it. Where are we going?" Dean asked for the millionth time. He was in the driver's seat, pouting as he looked out of the windshield. Sam was next to him, alternating between rereading the directions he had copied down and focusing on the road. For the one millionth time Sam replied: "I don't know Dean."

“Right, I forgot. You don’t know. Y’know Sam this is ridiculous. The bastard had you trapped in a time loop for months and now you’re just going to listen to him and go to some mysterious place? Makes perfect fucking sense Sammy.”

Anger and frustration had been bubbling within the two brothers since Sam had woken up. Two days eighteen hours and thirty four minutes they had been on the road (they only stopped to sleep once, a five hour reprieve that did nothing but set their nerves on edge) and they still had another two to go. Dean-who had been against the trip from the start-was ready to punch someone. Sam was beyond attempting to placate him.

“Dean!” The younger man yelled, throwing the directions harshly onto his lap. “The trickster said he put me in the time loop to learn two lessons, but he only explained-uh, mentioned one. I don’t know about you, but I want to know what’s so goddamn important that he needed to make me watch you die over and over again and then make me live without you.”  Sam was panting. For the past two days he had been keeping this from his brother. It had been bothering him because he couldn’t figure out any other reason for the trickster to torture him so. 

Dean was silent after that, but he made his frustration known by blasting the radio and pressing his foot harder on the accelerator.

*

After driving three hours into the heart of…well…nowhere, they finally found the address. And the only thought that went through the brother’s heads was: what the hell.

The address that the trickster had given Sam was the address for a huge mansion. The old stone building was very out of place after the hundreds of acres of forest. It was placed in the middle of a large clearing, surrounded by a ten foot tall stone wall. From what the brothers could see, the road turned into a long driveway that went under a row of trees all the way to the front of the building.

When the impala stopped in front of the iron gate, Dean got out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Sam followed. “Great Sam. Just fucking great! The trickster brought us to a castle. A _castle_ Sam! What the fuck is in there that has anything to do with you? And how the hell are we supposed to get in? The gate’s _locked_. There’s no PA system and the wall’s too fucking high to jump.”

“I don’t know, Dean. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this place before.”

Dean spun around so fast that Sam was surprised that he didn’t get whiplash. However, any comments that Sam wanted to make about it died in his throat at the harsh glare Dean was sending his way. “That’s because the trickster sent us on a wild goose chase!!!”

“Hey, you don’t need to yell at me.” Sam said softly.

“ _I_ didn’t want to come here! _You_ did, Sam! So, yeah, I think I can yell at you!”

Sam pursed his lips and opened the impala’s passenger door. “Fine. Get in the car. We’ll go find a motel or something.”

_CREAK_

The Winchesters honestly should have seen this coming. In their line of work, shit like this always happened to them. Of course, whenever this  _did_  happen, it was never for a good reason.

“Dean…”

“Sam, no. No fucking way. I’m NOT going in there! Let’s go.”

“Dean, come  _on_. I know you want to find out what’s in there.” Sam said factually. He didn’t try to get into the car, much to Dean’s annoyance.

“Yeah, Sam. But 

The interior of the house was drastically different than the outside. Whereas outside was dark stone and imposing, the inside was warm toned and inviting. The floor of the foyer was a reddish wood that Dean couldn't name off of the top of his head with a matching border around the top and bottom of the walls. The walls themselves were cream. There was a large window above the door that they had just entered from, but other than that there were no other windows in the room. 

"Well Sammy, we came, it's empty. Let's go." dean said, already pivoting on his heel to go back outside. Sam rolled his eyes and grabbed Dean's collar before he walked too far. 

"I know you don't want to be here Dean, but we aren't leaving yet."

The older Winchester pouted (it was a very manly pout if anyone ever asked Dean). Both Sam and Dean fingered their guns as they walked further into the room. 

There was nothing overly special about the foyer. It was large and empty with the exception of a few plants, a hutch, and a large mirror. The men were going to bypass these when something in the hutch, actually it was the only thing, caught their attention. 

It was an old cell phone. 

Normally this wouldn't be strange to the brothers, but the 90's style phone looked like it had just gone through a warzone. The screen was cracked, two buttons were melted, and there was scratches all along the sides. Something about the blue device bothered Sam. He felt like he had seen it before.  

"That's fucking creepy." Dean muttered. Sam couldn't agree more. 

"Right...let's jut go find the trickster."

"Maybe ask him why he has this creepy thing..." Sam rolled his eyes.

"Come on"

' **You're doing it Sammy!** ' The brothers' heads snapped to where the childish voice had come from. There was no one behind them. 

Dean opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to wrap his head around waht was going on. He shook his head and looked over at his younger brother. "Did you just hear that?" He asked. Sam did even aknowledge him. 

"Sam." He tried again, a bit louder than the first time. 

Blinking, Sam snapped out of the daze he had just been in. "Err, right. Sorry. That voice just had me thinking fora second."

"About what?"

"About...Harry." Sam waited for his brother to blow up at him. 

Harry was a sore subject for the Winchesters. After he left, things got harder between John and Sam because Harry had always been there as a mediator. Sam believed that John was wrongto push Harry away like he did. John did not think so. After three months of not hearing from his older brother, Sam had tried asking both Dean and John if they could look for him. 

John's response had been to yell at Sam until his face was purple, and then storm out of the cabin they were in. Dean had said that they had to listen to John, so neither of them went after their missing brother. 

Four days later John came back, pale as a sheet, carrying two large cases of beer. 

Later that night, thinking everyone was asleep, Sam got up and went to the bathroom. That had been the first time in a very,  **very**  long time that Sam could remember hearing his Dad cry. 

They didn't speak about Harry after that, the small, body-less funeral they had was painful enough. 

Dean, seemingly understanding what he was thinking about, winced. "Yeah...it did kind of sound like him..."

"Dean...why didn't-"

' **Oh my god! Dean! Dean come here!** ' The childish voice was back, filled with pride. This time, Sam and Dean raced to find the source. 

"Where the hell is it coming from?!" Dean yelled.

' **Look at you go Sammy!** ' The voices were coming from the mirror. Only...it wasn't a mirror. It was like someone had replaced it with a window and they were looking right through at three boys playing. Only, Sam and Dean knew exactly who the kids were because they remembered the day vividly. It was the day that Sam finaly learned how to ride his bike properly. They were at Bobby's and Harry had taken Sam outside to practice. 

' **I'm doing it! I'm really doing it!** ' Six year old Sam shouted excitedly as he peddled around his brothers. Nine year old Harry and Ten year old Dean watched him with matching grins. 

Dean lost it when young Sam peddaled off down a row of cars, making the younger versions of himself and Harry run after him. He pulled out his gun and fired three shots at the mirror, shattering the glass and the image. 

*

Crowley grimaced as he watched the barbarian destroy his mirror. 


	3. Apple Pie Life, sort of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not perfect, but Harry and his men have their own version of the apple pie lifestyle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's see, a dose of Harry's life. We get to see Gabe, Crowley, and even some Bobby mixed in.  
> 

Harry could honestly say that at the moment his life was about as close to the apple pie lifestyle as it would ever get. He had his two men whom he loved and who loved him back, they had their ‘puppy’ Growley (though, puppy was using the term loosely seeing as the hellhound was almost as tall as Harry and several times as wide) and the snakes, Bobby would come over at least once a month to spend the weekend with the triad, and they had their wonderful house. The only thing that would make his life better would be if they had a couple of kids running around the house, but that was a very touchy subject.

He didn’t think about his Father or brothers. Nor did he talk about them. Occasionally, Bobby would bring them up in a conversation, but only if something important had happened ( _‘Sam left’ ‘John’s dead.’ ‘Sam died; and Dean sold his soul to bring him back.’_ ). The last time that Bobby had tried to inform him of the lives of his brothers, Harry had just stopped him because both Gabe and Crowley had informed him of this.

Some people might call him a bastard or a coward for keeping his distance from his brothers (hell, as far as he was concerned they thought that he was dead. Bobby wasn’t allowed to say where he lived or even that he was alive because of a spell and Harry kept under the radar of any supernatural beings that may come into contact with his brothers) but he didn’t care. When he needed his family to overlook his magic, when he needed their help the most, they turned their backs on him. Only Bobby cared enough to look for him. Bobby didn’t care that he was a wizard, to the older hunter, Harry was family.

Shaking his head, Harry decided that it was time to start his day.

As usual, Crowley was already up. He was probably in the kitchen cutting up some steaks for Growley. The demon didn’t require much sleep, so it wasn’t much of a surprise to see the spot that Crowley had occupied during the night empty the next morning.

Harry gently pressed his lips against the sleeping archangel’s cheek. Gabriel twitched, but didn’t wake. Like Crowley, Gabriel didn’t require much sleep. Out of the three of them, Gabriel was always the last to fall asleep, usually around an hour before Crowley got up.

Their bed was large (far larger than Harry thought was necessary but Crowley wanted a bed that could not only fit the three of them but also fit Growley with room to spare, Harry was still convinced that Crowley just wanted an excuse to buy the expensive monstrosity) so every morning Harry would crawl for what felt like ages before he finally reached the edge. When his feet hit the cool wood, Harry sucked in a hiss. He should seriously convince Crowley to let him spell the floors to be a warmer temperature.

He made his way to the kitchen half asleep. Crowley was there rubbing Growley’s belly and cooing at the hellhound. Harry had to suppress a smile at the adorable picture. “Mornin’ Hun.” Harry murmured. He walked over to the pair, scratched behind Growley’s ear muttering a ‘Morning Puppy’, and went to the counter to pour himself some coffee.

Crowley followed. He stood next to his little wizard and waited for him to finish making his drink before giving the man a good morning kiss. “Morning, Love. Where’s that angel at?”

Harry chuckled into his cup. “Where else would he be at this time? He’s probably sprawled out on the bed right now.”

“Do you want me to-”

“Nah, I’ll just start making breakfast. That’ll get him out of bed.”

And so Harry started taking out the ingredients for waffles. As he to out and started putting food into the mixing bowl, he put Crowley to work.

“Can you get out the waffle iron? Can you set the table? No, don’t worry about that, Gabe will take care of it. Oh, I think I hear him. Can you make him a cup of coffee? I don’t know how coherent he’ll be. Thank you Crowley, love you.” The last bit was emphasized by pecking the demon’s cheek as he passed Harry to get to the coffee maker.

Not too long after Crowley had poured the cup, Gabriel trailed into the kitchen. His eyes were closed and his hair and boxers were askew and he was groaning as he walked, but he accepted the coffee with a grunt of thanks and plopped himself into his seat the table (honestly for a being that didn’t require much sleep, he sure wasn’t the type to wake up, and he definitely hated mornings.).

“Morning Sleeping Beauty.” Harry laughed when the archangel flipped him off.

“Oh that’s real charming, Princess.” Crowley goaded.

“Yeah yeah, fuck you.”

“Meow. I feel offended.”

Rolling his eyes, Harry grabbed two paper towels and charmed them into foam balls. He threw one at each of his lovers’ heads. “Ladies, please, you’re both pretty. But breakfast is almost done. Crowley, you still haven’t set the table. Gabe, can you get out the toppings? You can go back to your catfight when you’re done.”

He smiled when his men got to work, even if Gabe was still doing an impression of a zombie.

The rest of breakfast was quiet; the only sounds being the turning pages of Crowley’s newspaper, knives scarping against the plates, and Gabriel letting out the occasional groan. Growley was on his belly under the table. Occasionally, Harry would slip the hellhound bits of his waffles which earned him a disapproving stare from Crowley (Gabriel tried as well, but the hound wouldn’t look twice at the sugar coated food).

“What?” Harry asked cheekily, a big grin on his face. 

“You know what. He already ate his breakfast. You’re spoiling him.” There was no real bite behind the words, seeing as how all three of the men spoiled the hellhound, but it still made Harry scoff and Gabriel chuckle.

Leaning back in his seat, the Wizard placed a hand on his heart. “Oh, Growley-puppy, do you hear Daddy? He’s being so mean!” Growley whined, rubbing his massive head against Harry’s legs. Harry nodded solemnly, as if he and the hound were having a serious conversation, and rubbed behind the hellhound’s ear. “Oh, I agree, puppy. I think Daddy should do the dishes while I take you out to play.” Growley’s ears perked up at the mention of playing outside. His black tail wagged so hard that he almost knocked over one of the chairs.

Crowley chuckled. “Yes Harry, I get it. Growley, go play with Mummy outside, Daddy and Papa will take care of the dishes.”

The twin shouts of ‘Hey!’ left the demon laughing.

*

With Harry outside, it was just Gabriel and Crowley in the kitchen. The archangel was pouting about being put on dish-duty even though he hadn’t done anything. Crowley smirked, and with a wave of his hand the dishes were clean and tucked away in the cabinets.

“You know that Harry hates it when you do that.” Gabriel pointed out. Crowley shrugged indicating that yes, he did know but he didn’t care. The archangel turned to face him, arms folded at his chest and eyebrow raised. “Well, I know you want to ask about them. Go ahead.”

“What are your plans for the idiots today?”

*

Harry threw the soccer ball across the yard and watched as the giant hound raced after it. It was really adorable, far different from the blood thirsty beast that Growley turned into when Crowley took him to go collect souls. Harry truly loved the hound and treated him like he was Harry’s baby (which, essentially, Growley _was_ the men’s baby; which was why the hound was so spoiled).

Ten years ago, Harry would have punched any poor soul in the face had they told him this. But that was ten years ago. Now, Harry accepts the craziness as part of his life.

Growley came back, teeth piercing the ball and drool soaking it, and dropped it onto Harry’s lap. He sat on his haunches and waited with his tail wagging. Harry laughed.

“Oh, Growley! You’ve popped another one! Here,” He transfigured the deflating soccer ball into a ball of steel. “Now, go get it!” Using his magic, Harry propelled the steel ball back to the far side of the yard and watched as Growley chased it.

Harry loved the yard. It was large and open and everything he hadn’t had but secretly wanted growing up. So was the house. Everything from the yellow paint and red shingles, to the stupid over-priced furniture that Crowley had to have, to the endless collections of movies (ranging from the silent film era to the present), to the gourmet kitchen, to the large windows that allowed Harry to see the outdoors, to Gabe’s own room in the basement where he stored his candy, and the stupid gate that honestly did nothing but keep out a squirrel or two made this house (as obnoxious as certain things were) absolutely perfect to Harry.

He could remember, clear as day, the first time he saw it. Crowley and Gabriel had just brought him back from England. He was still weak and his magic was all over the place, so when Harry first laid eyes on the mansion’s living room, he had honestly thought that it was just a figment of his imagination. However, when Crowley and Gabriel walked around the room like they had done it many times before, he knew that that was not the case. He had asked who the house belong too before they commandeered it, and Crowley responded by telling him that it was just a tiny little shack when they first bought it years ago. Gabriel and Crowley had done most of the work (albeit with magic) themselves.

Harry was so impressed that, despite his weakened state, he got up and hobbled around to get a better look of the mansion. Gabriel and Crowley were furious with him after, but he didn’t care. Everything was clean and pristine and so fucking impersonal that it made Harry shiver. Demon and archangel or not, they still had personalities and the only part of it that was reflected in the décor of the mansion was the expensive taste. There were no photos, no knickknacks from vacations, no evidence that anyone actually lived there. The mansion was more like a museum than a home. For some reason, it made him sad.

He could remember asking Gabriel for a camera. He was told that after he had rested he could take as many photos as he liked. The next morning, he was given a professional camera and the first thing he did was run outside to take a picture of the front of the house. He was so proud of how it came out, warm and inviting, that he asked Crowley if he could hang it up in the house somewhere.

After that, Harry would run around taking pictures of everything. He took pictures of the garden, of his men, of Growley, of the cars, and that one time where he managed to take a picture of the three of them sleeping (Crowley hated it, but Gabriel loved it. He called it ‘fucking brilliant’ because Harry had finally managed to get a picture of Crowley looking _normal,_ so the archangel blew it up several sizes and hung it in the library. Harry wasn’t allowed to have the camera in the bedroom after that.). Slowly, the mansion started to fill up with little things that made it more like home.

There was a buzzing in his pocket and it only took Harry a few moments to have his cell phone out so he could read the Caller ID.

 ** _Bobby_**.

“Hey Bobby.”

“Kid, I’m about four hours away.” Came the gruff reply from the other end.

Harry’s eyebrow knitted together in confusion. “Is everything okay Bobby?” Growley came over and dumped the ball in front of Harry, careful not to hit him. Harry smiled and sent the ball sailing again.

“Everything’s fine. Just wanted to see my favorite pains in my ass.” Harry smiled at the snark. He knew that something was wrong by the way that Bobby greeted him, but whatever it was wasn’t that bad if Bobby was still being Bobby.

“Right. Well, I’ll see you when you get here then.”

“Sure kid.” Bobby hung up.

Rolling his eyes, Harry pocketed his phone. With Bobby on the way, he decided that he would need to go to the store so he could make a large dinner to welcome his pseudo father. Besides, he had already put off going out for the past few days and now his list was growing. Gabe needed more of a specific brand of candy, Growley was running low on meat, the coffee was almost gone, and Harry was pretty sure that they needed more milk too.

He went off to go and find his men. They would have a fit if they realized that Harry had left without saying anything (this _had_ actually happened before, sad to say, long story though).

Crowley was no where to be found, which in itself was nothing odd. Crowley was a crossroads demon and he still had to make deals and collect souls (Harry had long since gotten past trying to break these deals, if someone wanted to be stupid enough to make a deal with a demon, he wasn’t going to stop them. It’s their soul, not his.). What _was_ odd was the way that Gabriel poured over his ridiculous crystal ball in the Library. He never- _never_ used the damn thing, and he didn’t need it either. Harry was certain that this was the first time since Gabriel _acquired_ it that it had even been out of its box.

Their four snakes could be seen slithering across the floor, they liked to do that. Harry smiled softly at them as he walked over them to get to the loveseat that Gabriel was in.

“Uh, Gabe?” The archangel made a noise in the back of his throat; the only indication that he had heard Harry. “I’m, uh, going to town to pick up a few things before Bobby gets here okay? How does lasagna for dinner and chocolate cake with raspberry filling for dessert sound?” There were no protests, no declarations of Gabriel accompanying the wizard, no sarcastic comments about Bobby dropping by, and no input about how they should just have the dessert for dinner like Harry had been expecting. Just a nod. A very un-Gabriel like nod. “Err, right. I guess that I’ll see you when I get back. Have fun with…whatever you’re doing.” Again, another uncharacteristic nod.

Harry sighed and went to his car.

*

The drive to the store was relatively long, almost an hour, because the house was so fucking far away from _everything_. Harry didn’t mind it. In fact on any other day, he would even enjoy the ride. Though, to be fair, he usually had either Gabe or Crowley sitting in the passenger seat talking to him.

Now that he was alone, he had far too much time to think.

Gabe was acting, odd. There was no doubt about it. He was far too quiet and focused on his crystal ball. It was unnerving. Usually, when Gabriel was completely focused on something it meant he was up to something. Most of the time, it wasn’t anything good.

The question was: What was the archangel up to?

*

He was in and out of the store and back home in less than three hours. Growley greeted him at the door with an exuberant bark and a doggy-kiss to his cheek. Grinning, Harry set down the bags that he was carrying and scratched behind the hellhound’s ears.

“Hi puppy! Did you miss me?” Growley barked, making Harry laugh. “Oh I missed you too! Is Daddy home?”

“Why, miss me already?”

Harry turned around and, lo and behold, there was Crowley leaning against the wall with a glass of Craig. He smiled at the demon. “Naturally, now get over here and help with the groceries.”

“What, no hello-kiss?”  Crowley asked as he grabbed a handful of bags.

Harry passed him as he made his way into the kitchen. “Please, if anyone should be given a hello-kiss it’s me.”

“Where’s our Archangel? Why aren’t you turning him into your pack mule?”

They reached the kitchen. “Because,” Harry groaned as he placed his bags on the floor. “He’s cooped up in the library using that ridiculous crystal ball of his.”

Crowley frowned. “Did he know that you left?” He put the bags he was holding down and leaned against the counter. He wasn’t happy with the thought of Harry leaving by himself. Yes, he was a grown man and hunter, but it wouldn’t be the first time an idiotic demon tried to capture him because he felt the mixture of Crowley and Gabriel’s magic tied with Harry’s.

“I don’t know Crowley. I told him, but he barely noticed that I was in the room with him.” He said to the demon.

“What was he doing?”

“I don’t know Crowley, he was messing with his crystal ball, that was all I could see.” Harry carefully separated the items that were going into the fridge or the freezer from the ones that were going into the pantry. Crowley tried to reach for an apple, but he was slapped away (“You’ll spoil your dinner Crowley.”).

“I thought that you made him get rid of it years ago.” The demon pouted.

The food for dinner later was put off to the side. “No, he pitched a fit, remember?” He slapped Crowley’s hands again when he tried to take a cherry tomato for the salad. “Knock it off. If you aren’t going to help me then go see what Gabe’s up to.” Chuckling, Crowley kissed the back of his neck and vanished.

*

Gabriel was in the same position that Harry had left him in. He was hunched ever so slightly in his chair, attention completely focused on the ball in front of him. The only difference was that now, he was smirking.

This was how Crowley found him. The demon was not impressed by any means. “You know, this obsession of yours is getting slightly out of hand.” Gabriel didn’t respond. “Gabriel.” Nothing. Sighing, Crowley walked up to the angel and plucked the ball away, holding above his head.

The response was instant. Gabriel was up and shouting at the demon for interrupting him. “You’re an idiot, Gabriel.” The archangel blinked in confusion. Crowley sighed again. “Did you even know that Harry left to get groceries?” Gabriel jumped, nearly tripping over himself. “Oh don’t fuss. He’s fine, cooking dinner at the moment. He kicked me out of the kitchen.” Here, the demon pouted.

Tiredly, Gabriel rubbed at his eyes. “When did he leave?”

“A few hours ago, I think.” Gabriel groaned. He really was paying too much attention to this plot of his. “What could you possibly be doing to those boys that’s got you so distracted?”

Gabriel went on to explain how he was making Sam and Dean relive some of their better memories of Harry, followed closely by a memory that caused immense guilt. He wouldn’t dare use any of Crowley’s priceless antiques though, after the demon’s bitch fit over the imaginary mirror Gabriel decided that he did not want to go through that again. In one of the rooms that the boys had gone in, he had Harry’s favorite song play. In another, Sam found an exact replica of a toy that he had broken when he was younger. He had cried until Harry crudely put it back together using magic. There were screams coming from the dungeon. Sam and Dean, being the heroes that they were tried to follow them, but Gabriel set the castle up so that they had to go through at least fifteen rooms before they could find the door to the dungeon. He couldn’t wait to see their reactions to what laid behind it. “Little Sam and Dean have no idea how great they had it. Well, they understand a bit of it now, but the concept still hasn’t been fully grasped by their tiny little minds. Our wizard was always taking care of them. Patching them up after a hunt, making sure that Dean ate, even if they didn’t have a lot to go around, reading to Sam at night. How do they repay him? Sammy was the one who told Dean about Harry’s magic, and Dean told our dear ol’ father-in-law.” Crowley looked unimpressed.

“Okay? Anything else?”

“Anything else?!” Gabriel shrieked. “That entire family is based on their trust issues, ‘trust no one but your family’ crap. They destroyed whatever trust Harry had in them!”

“Love, I’m pretty sure that they also did that when they let John run him out.”

“Oh shut up.” Snapping his fingers, the brown haired archangel had his crystal ball back in his grasp. He sat back down and slowly maneuvered his hands around the ball. “The next thing I’m going to show them is John and Missouri’s meeting. Maybe then they’ll understand that their idiot of a father had given Harry the ultimatum: live or die; and that blindly standing by his side meant that they were also giving him the same ultimatum.”

“Oh?” Crowley sat next to him. “And how do you plan to do that?”

Gabriel sent him a bloodthirsty smirk (seriously, the archangel was secretly just as bad as Crowley). “You’ll see; they’re following the screams down to the dungeon, so I’ll have them stop on the way.”

The demon rolled his dark eyes. “I can’t believe you made them think that our house is a castle. It’s not that bad.”

“Hey! It’s _way_ more dramatic!”

*

Dinner and dessert were cooking in the ovens (Crowley had two stacked on top of each other when Gabe and Harry started complaining about not having enough oven space). The salad was in the fridge, the table was set and Growley was off in the master bedroom because Bobby was uncomfortable around him. With nothing left to do, Harry went to see what his men were up to.

He went to the bathroom nearest the library so when he was done he could go and see what his men were up to. However, his phone rang. He pulled it out and was unsurprised to see Bobby’s name on the screen.

“Hey Bobby! Dinner should be ready in about half an hour and-”

“-Kid, get your ass outside, now. We need to talk. _Privately_.” Bobby hung up without another word, leaving Harry standing in the bathroom, blinking and shaking his head as he tried to understand what was going on.

He obliged though, it was Bobby after all, and whatever had pissed off the older hunter so much was obviously important. He apparated outside next to Bobby’s truck, startling the man. Harry winced and apologized.

“What did you want to talk about Bobby?” He waited as Bobby got out and eyed the area around them. Paranoid bastard.

“Your brothers are missing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I wanted to make this longer but it's been sitting min my documents for weeks. Oh well. That just means mroe fun for the next chapter.


	4. Better late than never...right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The phrase 'It's better late than never' probably doesn't apply to Harry's life at all. Actually, it probably doesn't apply to a Winchester in general.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go guys! Sorry if there are any mistakes, I went into 'speed editing' mode to get this posted since it's been so long.

**With Sam and Dean:**

“Dean, what the hell was that?” Sam asked as they walked away from the shattered mirror.

Dean was walking ahead; gun cocked and held out in front of him. He hadn’t said anything. He wouldn’t even look at Sam. He just walked; eager to find the Trickster and kill the son of a bitch.

Sam felt awful. “Dean.” He tried again. “Dean!”

“ _What_ , Sam?” Dean hissed. He turned his head so he could glare at his brother.

“You know what.”

Dean growled, lowered his gun, and turned around so he and Sam were face to face. “Do I know what just happened? Yeah Sam, that was the fucking trickster messing with our minds! It means nothing! Don’t think about it, let’s go and kill the bastard and go to Bobby’s.”

“Yeah but Dean-!”

“Enough Sam!”

Someone, somewhere, screamed. It was far-off and quiet, but it was still a scream. If they were asked about it later, neither Sam nor Dean would be able to say who heard it first. It was almost like the scream had always been there, but they hadn’t quite made the connection that it was a scream. Which for them, was more than odd.

“What was that?” Sam asked, trying to get his brother talking without Dean yelling or arguing with him.

“I don’t know. But we’re going to find out.” And then Dean started walking. He didn’t tell Sam to follow him, but Sam knew that he had to.

*

The hallway was…barren. No doors, no windows, no carpets, no statues, nothing. There wasn’t even a light. The only light came from the occasional candelabra mounted on the walls, but that didn’t offer enough light so Sam and Dean had their phones out.

The lack of light didn’t bother the brothers, though. They were used to dark places. It was the silence that bothered them. It was complete silence, where the only noise was a faint ringing in their ears. There was no faint breeze from a ventilation system or a cracked window, no pipes banging, no eerie creaks as the house settled, just silence.

It was…unsettling.

They walked for ages, passing nothing. Dean wouldn’t talk. Sam didn’t try to make him. He knew that it would be pointless anyways.

*

After almost an hour of walking, they finally found a door. Nothing more than a slab of wood with a door handle, but to Sam and Dean, it was a godsend. It meant that (hopefully) the Trickster was on the other side.

Dean went to one side of the door, Sam to the other. For the first time since the mirror incident, Dean looked at Sam. He didn’t want to talk, or apologize, though. He just maneuvered his hands into several sings to give Sam his orders.

**_Be quiet._ **

**_Do not leave my side._ **

**_You see the Trickster, shoot first; Questions later._ **

He should have been tired of these orders by now, he really should have. Sam was a fully grown adult; he could take care of himself. But he figured that if he argued with Dean now, it would only cause his brother’s mood to worsen. He nodded and waited for Dean to open the door.

By now, Sam should have learned that when his brother is pissed, subtle and quiet are two things that he is not. Dean kicked the door open with enough force that the door cracked and splintered.

Inside was a brightly colored motel room. Two double beds covered with blue and green patterned pillows and blankets, three lamps, a nightstand, a dresser with a television and a VCR on it, and a table and three chairs. On one of the beds Sam, who couldn’t have been more than twelve, was lying face-down with his hands bunched in his hair. Harry was on the edge of the bed with his arms outstretched to his brother. Dean was on the other bed, the one closest to the door, calmly flipping through the channels; he looked beyond pissed and carefully avoided looking at the other side of the room.

“What the fuck?” Dean mumbled. “Hey…hey you! What the hell are you doing?! Do you think this is funny? Hey! Look at me!” As Dean-the older Dean- yelled, the younger three brothers went about their business like they didn’t even know that they were there.

“Dean, I don’t think they can hear us.”

“Of _course_ they can’t.” Dean took a few more steps into the room and nudged the closest kid’s (‘young Dean’) foot with his gun. The gun went right through like iron through a ghost, the only difference being the kid neither disappeared nor acknowledged him.

**_“Sammy, Sammy please look at me.”_** Harry asked quietly. Young Sam stubbornly kept his face pressed into the pillows.

“Dean…what the hell’s going on in this place?”

**_“Sammy, hun, I know you’re upset. But-”_ **

**_“Just leave him alone Harry. You should know not to bother him when he’s PMSing.”_ **

“I remember this…” Sam said.

**_“Dean, shut the hell up. You aren’t helping.”_ **

**_“Hey all I’m saying is he does this every fucking time we leave a town. It’s the same story, Ry. ‘Oh boo hoo I can’t study for the test in two months. I have to leave my nerd friends behind. I want-”_ **

**_“DEAN! That’s_ enough _!”_** Harry got off Sam’s bed and stormed over to Dean’s side. **_“He’s twelve Dean. He has a right to be pissed off!”_**

Young Dean stood up so he and Harry were less than a foot apart and glared down at his brother. Neither Harry nor Sam were tall (Sam hadn’t quite hit a growth spurt yet, and while Harry had hit a few, he was still a head shorter than Dean). **_“He’s twelve, he should suck it up and take it like a man!”_** Sam peaked at his brothers from the bed. Slowly, he sat up, not once looking away from the argument.

**_“Take it like a man? Are you freaking kidding me?!”_ **

**_“No Harry, I’m not! We’ve been sporadically moving around for twelve years! He should be used to this by now!”_ **

**_“HE SHOULDN’T HAVE TO BE! Dean, he should have friends and worry about big tests and be normal!”_ **

The older versions of Sam and Dean watched the fight with morbid fascination. Having already gone through this once, they knew what was going to happen, but they couldn’t look away. Had it been any other situation, Dean would have called it a train wreck.

They almost jumped out of their skin when the younger-memory-whatever the hell was going on- version of John walked between them and into the room.

**_“THERE’S NOTHING NORMAL ABOUT US HARRY, IN CASE YOU HADN’T NOTICED!”_ **

Just like they remembered, one of the chairs at the table exploded in a myriad of splinters, cotton, and tacky patterned fabric. Harry and Dean, argument momentarily forgotten, grabbed Sam and pulled him to the floor between the two beds to block him from the debris. John used the door to shield him.

Instinctually, the older Sam and Dean dodged the debris. Had they stood still, they would have noticed that the debris wouldn’t have hurt them…much.

“I don’t understand, why are we seeing this? I mean all that happens next is Dad brings Harry outside, berates him and then we move on, end of story.” Dean said as they stood up. As he spoke, John got up and ordered Harry outside. The room melted away as Harry and John walked. They ended up in the Impala. Harry and John were in the front and somehow, Sam and Dean found themselves invisible in the back.

**_“I thought you had it under control!”_ **

**_“I said I had it_ mostly _under control!”_**

“I don’t remember this…” Sam said. Dean hummed in agreement.

**_“I told you that you need to get this freaky magic stuff under control!”_ **

**_“And I told you that I can’t do that as fast as you want without some kind of channel or wand, but you won’t let me get one!”_ **

**_“YOU DON’T NEED ONE!”_ **

**_“OBVIOUSLY I DO IF I BLOW SOMETHING UP EVERY TIME I GET PISSED OFF!”_ **

**_“Watch your tone with me, son.”_** John growled. It was his: ‘I’m going to tear you a new one if you don’t follow my orders’ tone. The boys had learned at an early age that when John used that tone of voice, it was wise to shut up and listen. Dean learned with no problems, Harry and Sam always had to press buttons.

“Come on Harry, shut up.” Dean said under his breath. Sam briefly glanced at him, and couldn’t help but agree.

**_“I’m doing this without a teacher and a wand, Dad. I’m not perfect like Dean (_** Sam watched as Dean cringed. He hated to be called perfect, because he was anything but. ** _), I don’t do things right the first time around! I make mistakes, I fuck up every once in a while! I’m trying, okay?! I really am! But you have to cut me some slack!”_**

**_“ENOUGH! Harry, you could have gotten your brothers hurt in there! Don’t you get that!? Last time it was a fire, this time it was an exploding chair! What’s it going to be next time? How do you know that you won’t end up hurting your brothers?! Now you meditate, do whatever the hell you have to do to get that magic of yours under control or you stop using it, do you understand me?”_ **

“Dean, do you…do you ever remember Harry telling you about this?”

“No.”

“Do you think that this is a memory?”

“I have no fucking clue.”

**_“What was that?”_ **

**_“I said, yes Sir.”_ **

*

They walked out of the room almost in a daze. Not once had they ever heard the story of their dad being such a dick to Harry, so part of them (mostly Dean) couldn’t believe it. But, at the same time, it made sense. The day that Dad had kicked Harry out they had had the same argument.

“That was bull. There’s no way that Dad would ever say shit like that.” Even though Dean spoke the words, his tone showed that he didn’t quite believe it.

They kept walking.

*

The next door that they found (Seriously, one door every hour, in a building this fucking huge; what the hell) led them to the…electronics department??? Yes, it was-what looked like-the electronics department of a retail store with dozens of televisions lined up on the wall, all turned off. The walls, the ceiling, and the floor were bright white with splashes of green here and there. When Sam turned around, to see if there was any other part of the ‘store’, but there was just a white and green wall. Soft music played from invisible speakers. It was an older song that both Sam and Dean knew that they should know but couldn’t quite think of the name.

“Seriously? What the fuck?” Dean growled. It made him Sam smile a bit.

The largest television (a 72 inch flat screen that could usually make Dean drool) flickered to life. Cautiously, Sam took a few steps towards it. Dean followed; his gun still at the ready in case the trickster decided to pull some crappy trick like from _The Ring_.

What showed up on the screen was the same quality as a home movie. It showed a dark street, the sign said that it was Privet Drive, with no signs of life anywhere. The witching hour, Sam noted briefly.

The brothers watched, confused, as nothing happened for almost five minutes.

“Are we peeping on a sleeping street?” Dean asked.

Sam shrugged. “Hey…what’s that?” It was a figure at the beginning of the street. He was old, with an annoyingly long beard and brightly colored robes.

“Dude, that’s a wack-job.”

The man (“Wack-job, Sammy, wack-job!”) pulled out a small metal object from his robe and held it out in front of him. One by one, the lights on the street went out. Only, they didn’t turn off. The light flew from their source and into the man’s metal object.

“Dean…I think that this is a wizard. Like, a Harry-type wizard.” They had never before met a wizard like Harry. Their dad had always kept them away from ‘those people’. They watched the man-wizard with renewed interest, trying to get a glimpse of someone from their brother’s world.

When all of the lights were out, the man started talking to a cat (“Wizard or not, this dude is still a nut.”). Then the cat shifted into an old woman (“Oh great, the nut-wizard is friends with a shifter.”).

**_“These are horrible people Albus, we can’t leave him here!”_** The old woman said. The two wizards went back and forth arguing about these ‘people’ and a baby whose family had been killed recently. The two had very distinctive accents that made both Sam and Dean think that they might not have been in the United States.

“What the hell is going on? Are we in England?”

Sam was about to reply, when something-or _someone_ caught his eye. “Uh, hey Dean? Is that Bobby?”

Dean looked off to where Sam was pointing. Sure enough, there was Bobby peeking at the two wizards from the back seat of a parked car. The wizards didn’t seem to notice that they were being watched by the hunter.

“What’s Bobby doing here?”

“A job probably.”

“Shh! Listen!”

The first sound of life that wasn’t the argument between the two wizards, was what sounded like a motorcycle. It was close, but they couldn’t see a light anywhere.

“Holy crap! Sam the motorcycle is _flying_!” Dean shrieked-yes shrieked, men can shriek-in a strange mixture of excitement and disbelief.

“Dean…that’s impossible. Motorcycles don’t-whoa! It’s flying! Dean…it’s _flying_!” After the initial freak out over the magical flying motorcycle, Sam and Dean went back to watching the wizards. There was a third wizard, a giant really, that was flying (driving?) the motorcycle.

“Dean…is that a baby?” Sam pointed to the bundle that the old man placed on the doorstep of Number Four.

“Is Santa Claus seriously leaving a baby on a doorstep? That’s not how you get a baby.” Sam sent Dean a ‘what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-you’ look, which Dean replied by sticking out his tongue.

Eventually, the three wizards left. The Santa Claus wanna-be put the lights back and the giant took the motorcycle with him must to Dean’s frustration. There was no one around to get the baby; the door didn’t open to a welcoming face. In fact, it was almost quieter than it was before.

After the wizards had been gone for a few minutes, Bobby slipped out of his car. He rushed over to the sleeping baby, and picked it up. There was a piece of paper tucked in the kid’s blanket and Bobby started reading it. Sam and Dean could see the older hunter getting progressively more pissed off as he read the note. 

**_“Kid, these people are horrible. I’ve been here long enough to know that.”_** He adjusted the baby so that he was holding the baby with both arms, making sure to hold his head. It was so odd, seeing Bobby holding a baby. He did it so effortlessly and he even made faces at the sleeping baby.

“Dude, that’s creepy.” Sam nodded in agreement.

**_“Come on Harry; let’s head off to the airport now. I was going to get a little more sleep, but I don’t want to be here in case those wizards come back.”_ **

Harry? This was where their brother had come from?

The image on the screen blacked out. Another screen, far smaller than the large monstrosity, turned on.

**_“Yeah Mary I know that Dean’s sick-have John look after him! Look, I can’t take care of a kid. You know why, hunting ain’t the life for a kid. Please? I can get you all the paperwork that you need and…yes its legal…for the most part. Two days? What am I supposed to do with him for two days? No I’m not intimidated by a baby! Fine, I’ll see you in two days!”_ **

The screen turned black.

“Bobby knew Mom? Why didn’t he tell us?”

Another television two screens down turned on.

**_“Oh my god! Isn’t he the most precious little baby!”_** Mary cooed as she picked up baby Harry for the first time. Baby Harry-big green eyes and curly black hair-giggled and reach out to pull a lock of Mary’s hair. Mary laughed and gently pried his hands off. **_“No-no, honey. We don’t pull hair.”_**

Harry looked up at her with a smile. He had a few baby teeth in the front of his mouth, bright white and tiny. Dear lord, looking at him now, both Sam and Dean could easily say that their brother was fucking adorable (Dean will forever and always be convinced that Harry got it from him, even if they weren’t blood related.) **_“Now, are you sure that his family is…dead?”_**

Bobby nodded grimly. **_“Yep, the wizards that left him on the doorstep left a letter to. Says they died on Halloween, murdered.”_**

Mary held baby Harry tighter. Harry didn’t understand what was going on, but he gave Mary a baby-hug back. **_“You poor-poor thing. Did you get all of the paperwork Bobby?”_**

**_“What do you think I am woman? Incompetent?”_**  Bobby and Mary grinned at each other. Bobby walked over to his table and picked up a manila folder. He handed it to Mary. **_“All the legal forms you’ll need. You and John need to fill out the adoption forms and send them to me ASAP. Let me tell you, these wizards do not like legal documents. I went through hell trying to get all of this.”_**

**_“Did you get a copy of his birth certificate?”_ **

**_“Yep, Harry James Potter; born: July 31, 1980.”_ **

The screen went black.

Sam and Dean looked at each other, confusion clearly written on their faces. They hadn’t known that their mother was friends with Bobby. No one had bothered to tell them before.

**_“John, we already talked about having another child so what’s the big deal?”_ **

“Oh God there’s more.” Dean groaned. Sam patted him on the shoulder as they walked to the new television.

**_“We talked about_ maybe _having another child a few years down the road! Mary this isn’t what we talked about!”_**

**_“John he needs us!”_ **

**_“No he doesn’t! He has a family in England!”_ **

**_“Bobby said-”_ **

**_“-Bobby Singer, I should have known! You know, Singer has done some shady things but kidnapping takes the cake!”_ **

**_“His ‘family’ is a bunch of bastards.”_** All three Winchester men looked at Mary, wide eyed. **_“Yeah, I said they were bastards.”_**

**_“W-well I suppose that Bobby was the one to tell you this?”_ **

**_“Yes John.”_ **

**_“Well-”_ **

**_“Oh for the love of-he’s an_ orphan _John.”_**

John looked at Mary and his face softened. **_“Mary, honey, I get that you want to help him because he lost his parents, but he has a family.”_**

**_“And what kind of family lets one of their own freeze out in the cold, on the doorstep no less. Anyone could have come by and taken him, and I thank god that it was Bobby and not someone else, John. We’re keeping him, John. I will not let this boy go anywhere where I think he will be unloved. Now whether you like it or not, he’s a part of this family where he will stay and be loved.”_ **

Something inside Sam twisted and churned uncomfortably. To hear their mother defend Harry made him feel like he had let her down. After taking a quick look at Dean, he could see that his brother felt the same.

“Dean…”

“Don’t say it Sammy, just don’t.”

*

In their Library, Gabriel cackled (yes, cackled. He couldn’t help it, but he was having so much fun!). Crowley rolled his eyes, but didn’t comment.

“This-This is just too easy!” Gabriel said between laughs.

“Should I leave you and the crystal ball alone for a moment?”Golden eyes glared at him in response.

*

After walking through several rooms…

“Dean, that’s Mom.”

“Yes.”

“And _Jess_.”

“I can see that Sam.”

“And _Harry_.”

“ _Yes_ Sammy.”

 “ _In the same room_.”

Dean threw his arms up into the air. “I can see that Sam!”

“But…but how? I mean, this never happened. _Never_.”

“Not in reality.” Dean said. He sighed and leaned against the door frame as he watched his ‘family’ interact. Sam raised his eyebrow and asked his brother to elaborate. When he didn’t get a reaction from Dean, Sam stood next to him so they were side by side and watched.

**_“How are you feeling Harry?”_**  Jess asked. Harry, or the crude representation of Harry, was sitting on their mother’s couch, looking like hell. He was pale, dark purple circles around his eyes, and he was thin-almost skeletal. There was a blanket over his lap, covering his legs, but Sam could see that there was something off about them.

Harry smiled, tired and weak but still as kind and warm as Sam remembered. **_“I’m fine.”_**

**_“_ Bull. _You are not.”_** Harry sighed.

**_“You’re right. Damn you’re good. You probably give Sammy hell. Hey Mum? Can you get me a glass of juice?”_ **

**_“Sure sweetheart.”_** Sam watched as their mother gave the saddest smile and walked out of the living room and into the kitchen. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the other Sam and Dean talking to her.

**_“The injury on my side’s been acting up. And my illness…my med-_ Doctor _says that in a few days I’m going to have to go to the hospital full time. He-uh-he says that I’ve got a few months left.”_**  Jess left out a soft cry and hugged Harry.

**_“Does Mary know?”_ **

**_“I haven’t told her, but she’s my Mum. She always knows when something’s wrong.”_ **

The whole scene was bringing tears to Sam’s eyes. Even Dean’s eyes were suspiciously wet.

“When…when the Djinn had me under that wish-spell-acid trip I saw how life would have been like if Mom hadn’t died.” Dean explained. “Harry never left. He went to a magic school in Salem. And when he was eighteen his _godfather_ dragged him kicking and screaming to London and straight into a war. He didn’t want to fight, and they tortured him. The ‘light side’ tortured our brother because he wouldn’t fight for them. In the end, he was tortured by both sides of the war. One side took his legs; the other cursed him to keep getting sicker over a course of ten years. He wouldn’t tell me who did what, but I think I have a pretty good guess.” This was news to Sam, when the Djinn incident happened Dean gave him the vaguest description as to what happened. He had just wanted the whole thing to be behind him.

“So if Mom lived, Dad and Harry would have died…why didn’t you tell me this?”

“I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened to him after Dad kicked him out. You know? Did he go to England? Was he kidnapped? Did he die? Did Dad know? I mean, we had the funeral, so Dad had to have known something.”

“You know, that night, I saw Dad cry. He drank bottle after bottle of beer and cried.” They fell into silence, simply watching as the sick version of their brother fumble about. Jess helped Harry get up the stairs and Dean helped him get dressed.

**_“Why would you want to help me get dressed Dean? You stopped helping me after the twelfth time I hexed you.”_ **

**_“Well, you’re my little brother. I want to…to make up for not be there to help you.”_ **

**_“Dean, are you feeling okay?”_ **

**_“Yeah I’m perfect. And if you ask if I’ve been drinking, I swear to god I’ll kick your ass.”_ **

**_“Wouldn’t dream of it, Dean.”_** Harry and Dean shared a grin. Sam saw the raw pain in Dean’s eyes. Harry must have seen it too, for he reached out and laid a hand comfortingly on his big brother’s shoulder. 

**_“Harry, you know I love you right? As a brother so don’t give me that face.”_ **

“Okay! Let’s get the hell out of here.” Dean said quickly. He ran out of the room and into the hallway. Sam followed, trying-and failing-to hold back a soft smile. His smile grew when he heard Harry’s chuckle and reply of: **_“Of course Dean. I love you too.”_**

“It’s okay to miss him, you know. I do. And hell, if I was in your position, I would have told him that I love him a million times.”

“Yeah of course _you_ would.”

“Hey, don’t be a jerk.”

“Then don’t be a bitch.”

*

The next room that they walked into was a living room (fireplace, couch, coffee table. Sparsely decorated and darkly colored) and almost everything had some correlation to their brother. There was the blanket that Harry had taken from a no-name motel for Dean when he had caught the flu on a hunt (Dean still had it tucked away in the trunk of the Impala, but Sammy didn’t know that), here it was draped over the back of a leather couch; a crayon drawing of the Winchester family that Harry had made at six years old was framed and hung on the wall; the stupid Spiderman shirt that Sam had always asked Harry to fix for him (because the seven year old was always ripping it and throwing it away was out of the question. It was _Spiderman_ ) was folded on top of a pile of clean clothes on the coffee table.

Dean sat down on the couch and rubbed his face with his hand. “Why the fuck does the trickster keep showing us all of this? Why Harry?”

“I don’t know Dean” Sam said as he sat down next to his brother. “Maybe…maybe they were friends at some point and he wants to know what happened to him? You remember how Harry had that way with people.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Dean adjusted himself so his head was on the armrest and pulled the blanket down and put it on his lap. Sam watched in astonishment as he closed his eyes.

“You’re kidding me right?”

“What Sam?” Dean asked, eyes still closed.

“You’re seriously going to sleep?”

Shifting, Dean sent his brother a dark look. “What’s wrong with that? I’m fucking tired Sam. Between driving and looking for the Trickster I think I’ve earned a few hours. And the way I see it? What good am I if I’m about to pass out?” Sam couldn’t argue with that logic. They had been driving for hours and looking for the trickster for almost as long. A few hours of sleep sounded great. “Shut up Sam.”

“I didn’t say anything Dean.”

“You were thinking, loudly. Come here.” He lifted the blanket in the front, ushering Sam over.

“Dude. I’m not going to spoon with you on a couch in a house with a crazy trickster on the loose. I’ll sleep on the floor.” Truth was, Sam didn’t want to sleep on the floor (because it was cold, that was it. Nothing else. That’s his story and he was sticking to it.) and Dean could see it on his face.

Grinning, Dean sat up and wrapped an arm around Sam’s shoulders. “Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. Spooning is for couples. We are simply two brothers locked away in this drafty castle who just want to be warm and it would go against my better judgment if I let you sleep on the cold, hard floor while I stay nice and warm and comfortable. And if we share the couch we can’t sleep foot-to-head because your feet stink and the fumes will probably kill me in my sleep-”

“-Okay Dean, I get it.” Sam said with a chuckle. “I’ll sleep up here.”

They stretched out on the couch, side by side. Sam, much to his chagrin, was sandwiched between Dean and the back of the couch. He should have known that Dean would want to be on the edge in case the trickster showed up. He set an alarm to go off in three and a half hours and put his phone right behind Dean’s head to spite him.

*

**_“John Winchester, I shouldn’t even let you in my house.”_** Slowly, Sam opened his eyes. The room, save for the couch that they were on, had changed into the living room of Missouri Moseley. The older woman stood in the doorway, arms crossed at her chest and glared at John. He looked…miserable wasn’t the right word, he wasn’t quite to that point. It was more like troubled and curious.

**_“I just need to ask you a question about my boy.”_ **

Dean was awake; Sam could feel the difference in his breathing. He didn’t know if Dean’s eyes were open, but he knew that his brother was paying attention to the conversation.

**_“Oh no, before you ask me your question, you answer me this: Did you listen to that boy of yours about his magic?”_ **

**_“What about it?”_** They all knew that that was John-speak for no.

**_“John Winchester you are the biggest fool alive. Do you want to know what I told him?”_** John nodded. Sam assumed that even though his face was neutral, he was too afraid to speak. Missouri had that way with people. **_“I told him that there was no way for him to stop using his magic. It’s a part of him, John. Sentient, in a way. If he stops using his magic it will build and keep building until he has an extreme emotional reaction. His magic will burst out and there’s a good chance that it would kill him.”_**

John’s poker face faltered. **_“Is…is there any alternative?”_**

**_“Oh sure, assuming that he has good control over his emotions, his magic will eat away at him-body and mind-from the inside out until he dies.”_**  Missouri said in a mock-pleasant tone.

Sam and Dean both felt ice shoot through their veins. Sam had always known that they should have fought for Harry, that there was something off about the situation and Harry would have never left them unless he absolutely had to.

“So basically, if Harry had stayed with us, he would have signed his own death warrant.” Sam whispered (hey, he forgot that…whatever was going was just memories and could be affected by them).

**_“Can you tell me where my boy is?”_ **

**_“No, I can’t”_ **

**_“But he has magic! You told me once that it was like a light beacon that you could find anywhere-”_ **

**_“-And that beacon is out, John.”_ **

**_“What?”_** Dean grabbed Sam’s hand so tightly that they both were surprised that the bones didn’t break.

**_“John, I can’t tell you where you boy is because I don’t know. A few months back, I could sense him heading to South Dakota. Then, nothing. John I’m sorry, but that boy is either dead or buried underneath so many charms that it dominates his magical signature.”_ **

Missouri and John faded away. Sam and Dean laid there, frozen, for what felt like a millennium. Eventually, Sam’s alarm went off. Sam used the hand that Dean wasn’t trying to crush to turn it off.

“We are the worst family in the world.” Sam whispered.

Dean pried himself away from Sam (no, Sam did not miss Dean’s body heat. Nope) and fixed his clothes. “Come on Sam, we’ve wasted enough time here.”

Before Sam could get up, or even say something, the screams started up again. Time to start the search again.

*

**With Bobby and Harry:**

“Bobby, did you really think that I’m going to run around looking for them?”

“Kid…”

“Don’t, okay? Just don’t. I waited for them-for anyone-literally chained up in a dungeon for _months_. How long have they been missing, Bobby? A few hours?” Somewhere in the back of Harry’s mind, he knew that he was acting childish because Bobby still cared for Sam and Dean. But he was so _angry_. How could Bobby come to his house and expect him to go gallivanting about looking for his brothers when they couldn’t pay him the same respect.

“You’re missing the point!”

“The _point_? Bobby, the point is they threw me away because I wanted to live. Because I have magic! I wanted-no I _needed_ them to overlook that and they couldn’t! So-”

“I’ve had enough of your crap.” Bobby reached out and tightly grasped Harry’s shoulders. “You listen to me and you listen good! They messed up, I get that! But you could have told them at any time what not using your magic would do to you. They would have stuck by your side, and you know it! And you know what else, instead of taking that walk you could have aparated straight to my house! At least then you would have been safe in my wards! So you need to stop bitching and blaming your brothers when you could have done things differently!”

Harry was…shocked. Bobby had always supported him. When Harry said that he wanted nothing to do with his brothers, Bobby nodded and pulled him into his famous Bobby-bear hug. He never questioned it; never tried to get the wizard to change his mind.

“Kid, I’m not telling you to be bosom buddies. Just help me find them. They’re my boys too, you know.”

Green eyes closed and the shoulders under Bobby’s hands slumped. “Out of everyone, why do you need my help? Why can’t Pamela help you? Why me?”

“Because the last hunt that they were on, they were looking for a trickster.” Harry’s eyes snapped open. “Guess what his name is?”

*

**With Sam and Dean:**

**_“Uh, hey Mom? No wait-God-no you’re probably too busy right now.”_** Sam and Dean walked into another room to find teenage Sam (probably around fifteen) kneeling on the floor of another no-name motel while Dean showered (they knew that it was Dean from the off-toned singing coming from the bathroom) and John was nowhere to be found. Little Sam sighed and bent his head to look at the ceiling. **_“Look, if anyone can hear me…can you please help me? Well, not me, my brother. Harry. He said that he would call and it’s been three days and I haven’t heard anything. This isn’t like him. I tried to call, but he wouldn’t pick up the phone. I know he’s probably mad at me for not sticking up for him, but what could I do?! I just…I just need to know that he’s alright.”_**

The power went out. Younger Dean stumbled out of the bathroom and ran about looking for his gun. The manager of the motel came and apologized for the black out and assured the boys that the power would be back on shortly.

“So, you never told me that you prayed before this.” Dean said. He wasn’t accusing anymore, they were way beyond that point.

“I’ve told you before, I pray every day. Well, I used to.”

“So, what, you think an _angel_ caused this?”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe. Maybe something else did. Maybe it was just a coincidence.”

Dean turned to Sam with a look that screamed ‘nothing-that-happens-in-our-lives-is-a-coincidence’. Sam replied with his own look of ‘it-was-just-a-suggestion’.

“Do you know what I don’t get?” Dean finally asked.

“What?”

“You asked for a sign to show that Harry was okay. How is a black out a good sign?” Sam and Dean watched as their younger selves fumbled about, trying to get ready for bed. Neither could- _would_ -say what they thought that the blackout really meant.

*

**With Bobby and Harry:**

Harry pulled the older hunter into the kitchen. He paced, running both hands through his hair, while Bobby leaned against the counter.

“No, he wouldn’t. He promised me that he would leave them alone after what happened the last time!” As he paced, Harry questioned and tried to rationalize the situation. He was trying to find some way for Bobby to be wrong. They spent ten minutes doing this.

“Maybe they took a vacation?”

“Gabriel gave Sam this address; the last time I talked to them they were on their way here.”

“Maybe they’re still driving.”

“Kid, that was days ago. Even without Dean’s driving, they should have been here by now.” Harry couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. “What have your men been up to?”

Harry was about to give an answer to defend his husbands, when a strong sense of doubt washed through him. “They…umm…they’re…I have no idea.” He admitted softly. “I mean, Gabe’s been playing around with his crystal ball, which is weird, but I think I would know if my brothers were in my house. There’s no Impala outside, and even though the place is big, Sam and Dean couldn’t evade us for forever.”

Bobby cleared his throat, effectively stopping Harry’s rambling. “Let’s just go find your men, okay?” It wasn’t a suggestion.

*

**With Sam and Dean:**

After hour and hours of walking, they finally found the room where the screams were coming from. It was a dungeon, as clichéd as that sounds. All dark stone and iron. There were still no doors, but they could hear the screams getting louder and louder as they walked, so they figured that they were close to one.

As it turned out, they were. At the end of the corridor, they could see a thick, wooden door.

“Dean, what do you think we’re going to find on the other side of that door?” Sam asked.

“Hopefully? The trickster. What do I think we’re going to find after everything that just happened? I think we’re going to find another Harry illusion.” They were outside the door now. Dean had his gun out and motioned for Sam to be quiet.

The screams from inside dimmed to a soft whimper. The elder brother wasted no time trying to kick the door down. And fuck was that a terrible idea! The door was stuck or something, because when Dean tried to kick it, it barely moved.

“What the fuck?!” Dean tried to push the door open with his shoulder. That didn’t work.

**_“Crucio!”_ **

The screams started up again. Sam could help but think…

“Dean, that sounds a lot like-”

“-I know, Sammy! Help me get the door open!”

With their combined strength, the brothers had the door open in minutes. They ran into the room, it was just as dark and dank as the corridor only it smelled ten times worse. There was a tall, thin figure covered head to toe in black walking towards them-correction-walking _through_ them. As the figure in black left, the door shut behind it.

“Not cool!” Dean grumbled.

Sam looked at him, not smiling but not frowning. It was so hard to see in the dungeon, harder than it had been in the very first part of the castle. Even with his phone out he could barely see the profile of Dean’s face, let alone the rest of the room.

“So, what? We wander around until we find someone?”

**_“S-Sam. Dean.”_** The voice was hoarse from constant screaming, but they could recognize it all the same.

“Harry where are you!”

*

**Bobby and Harry:**

Unsurprisingly, when they walked into the library, Gabe and Crowley were sitting together on a chair (well, Gabe was sitting in Crowley’s lap almost in the way that he would when he bothered the demon while he was reading) looking into the crystal ball. Crowley noticed them first and banished the orb back to its box.

Well if that didn’t set off red flags…

“Hey!” Gabe shouted angrily. Crowley slapped him upside the head and pointed to where Harry and Bobby were standing. The anger in Gabe’s face disappeared.

“Hey babe. Hey Bobby. Dinner time?” the archangel asked.

…that certainly did.

Harry shook his head. “Not yet, Gabe. A few more minutes. Bobby and I just wanted to see what you were up to.” He said as he sat down on the arm rest of the chair. Bobby sat down on the loveseat opposite of them.

Gabe put an arm around Harry’s waist, nuzzling his cheek. Crowley took one of his hands and brought it to his lips, kissing it lightly. “We’re…bonding, love.”

“Bonding? What kind of bonding requires the use of the crystal ball that has never once been out of the box?”

Gabe momentarily pressed his face harder against Harry’s and then pulled away with a chuckle. He kissed the wizard’s cheek. “Don’t you worry about it, baby-doll.” Harry scowled at the nickname.

“When you tell me not to worry is when I worry the most, you idiot.” The four sat in silence for a moment. Harry pouted. “So you really aren’t going to tell me what you were doing?” he asked in a sad voice.

Crowley covered the archangel’s mouth with his hand to stop him from saying anything (it was the face, okay! The big wide eyes paired with the pouting mouth and the sad tone…when Harry did that he could manipulate Gabriel-and Crowley from time to time-to tell him anything. It didn’t happen often, though, because Harry didn’t like manipulating them). He gave Harry a serious look and told him ‘No.’.

“Fine. You know, Bobby was telling me something interesting.” His husbands looked at him in curiosity. Well, Gabe was curious; Crowley looked more bored than curious. “Yeah, he said Sam just got out of a time loop the other day. He said that a trickster put him in there.”

Gabe blinked. Any curiosity that was on his face melted away into cool indifference. “Oh really? And what happened in this time loop?”

“Like you don’t know you –”

“-Bobby, that’s enough!” Harry sent his pseudo father a glare. “Gabe, just tell me that you had nothing to do with this.”

“I had nothing to do with this.” He replied. He didn’t sound like a robot, but he wasn’t trying to defend himself either. Harry didn’t know what to feel. He was disappointed and hurt, yes, but there was more to it.

Harry got off the chair. Gabriel tried to get him to sit back down, but he pulled away. “Let me guess, Crowley you had something to do with this too?” No response. Holding his arms out, Harry summoned the crystal ball into his hands. “That’s why you’ve been using this, isn’t it?” Harry could still feel the small flecks of lingering grace from Gabriel. With his magic, he reached out and connected to the grace.

“No, Harry-don’t!”

Images of what Gabriel and Crowley had been looking at before appeared. Anger bubbled up from inside Harry. “Gabriel. You bring me inside there right now.” The wizard’s voice was neutral, the way that it was when he was trying to hold himself back from yelling.

“Babe, I-”

“- _Now,_ Gabriel!”

*

**Sam and Dean:**

“Harry, hey Harry where are you!” They tried searching, but with the poor lighting neither Sam nor Dean could pin-point where their brother was. They walked further into the room, carefully taking one step after another so they didn’t step on anything (Sam had already stepped in something that smelled terrible). “Come on Ry, we’re right here, just keep talking to us, okay?”

**_“Sammy, Dean, please. I need help.”_** The voice was closer.

Dean reached out his arms to try and feel for a wall. “I know kiddo, we’re right here. Okay?” He _needed_ to find his younger brother. He needed to save him and make things right.

A bitter laugh came from the shadows. **_“I-uh-can’t believe it. I left so I could have the chance to live. Turns out I’m going to die anyway.”_**

“You’re not going to die, Ry. I know Sammy and I fucked up, but we aren’t going to let you die.”

**_“I wish you could hear me. I wish you didn’t follow Dad so blindly.”_** Dean’s hand hit a wall. **_“Bobby, he’s good, great even. But he hasn’t spent as much time around my magic as you two have. He must already be back in the states right now…probably in a hospital. You guys…please…”_** Harry broke off.

“Dean…I think that this is another memory-thing.” Sam said; his voice thick with emotion.

Even though Sam couldn’t see it, he knew that Dean was furiously shaking his head. Dean didn’t want to believe that this was another memory. If this was another memory then this meant that Harry had been…

**_“Hey-hey-hey kiddo, you aren’t going to die here.”_** They knew that voice.

Lights appeared from nowhere. The room was the most stereotypical dungeon: stone walls and floors, dirty and bloody and damp, iron shackles (one pair had a skeleton cuffed to them). Dean took one look and wanted to gag. Seriously, the room was so clichéd that it wasn’t even creepy.

Two figures walked right through them. Both were shorter than Dean, though one was a few inches shorter than the other. The taller one had short black hair and he wore a black suit. They didn’t recognize him, but Sam and Dean’s inner radar screamed demon.  The other figure was very familiar. Shorter than the other being, brown hair slicked back, candy bar in hand…Dean didn’t waste a second in shooting the back of the Trickster’s head.

They really should have expected it. After every other memory-mirage thing that had happened, why would they get lucky now and meet the real trickster? The bullet passed right through the image and ricocheted off of the wall.

“DAMN IT DEAN!” Sam yelled as he ducked for cover.

“I’M SORRY I THOUGH HE WAS THE REAL TRICKSTER!” Dean yelled back. The bullet embedded itself into the ribs of the skeleton. Dean glared at the skeleton. “Oh, sure, _that_ thing is real!”

Sam elbowed him in the ribs. Dean was going to yell at him, but when he turned he saw Sam pointing to the other side of the room where the other two men were. Dean followed his brother’s hand and saw…Harry? He was bloody, bruised, covered in dirt and grime, and skeletal but he could still see his brother under all of it.

“Oh my god…”

**_“W-who are you? What do you want?!”_** Sam grabbed the back of Dean’s shirt, or at least, that’s what Dean thought.

“Sammy, I can see it, let me go.”

“You let me go.”

The brothers looked at each other, finally noticing that the other brother did _not_ have a hold on their shirt.

**_“We’ve come to proposition you.”_ **

**_“A deal? N-no thanks.”_ **

**_“It’s not a deal in the way you’re thinking. Just hear us out.”_ **

“Enough of this! Take us back, now!” A familiar voice (they knew who the voice belonged to, but they couldn’t bring themselves to believe that they were right in case it was just another trick) yelled from above them.

In less than a blink of the eye, they were gone.

*

When they landed back in reality-at least, they _hoped_ it was reality-Sam and Dean landed face-first on a hard wood floor. Someone let out a chuckle, somebody else (the trickster) cackled, and a third person muttered ‘idjits’. When did Bobby get there?

Sam and Dean slowly pushed themselves up and stood. They could see Bobby-who looked both glad to see them and agitated at the same time (or that could have just been his normal face, Dean mused.)-, and the dark haired man from earlier and the trickster standing close to each other and looking like they would rather be anywhere else but in that room.

A fourth man walked around them, the shortest out of everyone in the room. He was lithe with longish black hair tied in a short pony tail and wearing a tight navy blue shirt and light jeans.

“Oh my god.” Sam sucked in a breath. Neither he nor Dean noticed the flinch that the trickster made. “Harry?”

Hearing his name, Harry turned around and offered his brother a small, obviously strained smile. “Hey Sam. Hey Dean.” He turned to Bobby. “Bring them down to the dining room and get them something to eat. They probably haven’t had a good meal in a while. I’ll be down shortly.”

Unfortunately, Harry had forgotten how stubborn his brothers could be. “Are you fucking serious? We haven’t seen you in ten years-hell, we thought you were dead-and all you have to say is ‘Hey?’ and then expect us to leave you here with these freaks?” Dean asked angrily. Don’t get him wrong, he was fucking ecstatic to see that his brother was alive, but he was still trying wrap his head around why it took so long for him to contact them.

From his spot, Bobby mumbled something that sounded like: ‘ _Shouldn’t have said that kid.’_  

Angry green eyes zeroed in on Dean. The eldest brother flinched back. He had forgotten how terrifying being under that glare could be.

“Those _freaks_ are my _husbands_ Dean!” Harry hissed. Gabriel stuck out his tongue at the two. Crowley smirked at their dumbfounded expressions. “Yeah, I understand that Gabe’s been a dick to you two (“Hey!”) and believe me I’m going to give him hell for it- _both_ of you. Crowley don’t think that you can get out of this.-but don’t you _dare_ call them freaks, Dean.”

Dean was still trying to figure out how the three of them managed to get married. He hadn’t really paid attention to the second part of the rant, and it showed. He stared off into space, lips moving as he mentally went over what he had just been told, and eyebrows slowly scrunching closer and closer together.

Bobby rolled his eyes.

Seeing his oldest brother’s plight, Sam stepped in. “Look, Harry, I think what Dean’s trying to say is that we just found out you’re alive, and after all of that…stuff that we saw and everything that went on with the trickster, we’re both more than a little uncomfortable leaving you alone with him, and whatever ever the hell Crowley is.”

“You don’t know anything.” Harry hissed. “I was alone with these two for years, and we got on fine. So don’t you think that I can’t handle myself around them. Now get out, go eat, and leave us the hell alone until we’re done or I swear to god I will turn the impala into a minivan and your laptop into a slab of stone with a hammer and chisel!”

At the mention of the Impala, Dean broke out of his reverie. “Whoa! There’s no need to be vicious and bring Baby into this!”

Harry turned to Bobby, motioning for him to take his brothers out of the library. Bobby sighed and did as he was told. He may or may not have used too much force in pushing the boys to the door, but honestly! “You idjits should have just kept your damn mouths shut.” Harry heard him say before the door closed behind them.

“Way to get rid of them, babe!” The archangel said once he was sure that his…in-laws were out of earshot. Crowley shot him a look that said: ‘are-you-really-this-stupid?’

Magic rushed through the air, eager to be let loose and crackling in excitement. To any being of lesser power, the amount of pressure from the magic would have suffocated them. “Don’t think that you are off the hook. The three of us are going to have a nice…long chat about what just happened.”

“I trapped your brothers in an alternate reality to mindfuck them by showing them traumatizing past events of their lives-”

“-First off, when we got them out, what you were showing them was _my_ life. That was **_private_** , Gabriel! No one but us three and Bobby were supposed to know about that! Secondly, you deliberately went behind my back, not once but twice! You promised me that you would let them think that you were dead, and that you wouldn’t go back. But nooo! You just had to let your pride get in the way. ‘Can’t let the insignificant little humans get the better of the big bad trickster!’ And then you use my life as an excuse to torment them!” Several books flew off of their shelves. Various glass objects-including the crystal ball-exploded into dust. Crowley flinched, inwardly groaning about the mistreatment of the expensive objects.

For the first time since the argument started, Crowley spoke. “Do you really think that we would just use you as an excuse; that we wouldn’t care at all? Do you know how hard it was to watch you in that cell, screaming for help that never came?” 

Confusion and hurt overshadowed the anger that Harry felt. “You…you were there?” He wrapped his arms around himself, looking away from his husbands. Never before had he felt so…lied to. He hadn’t been this upset since…since his family hadn’t shown up to save him.

The demon stepped closer to his little wizard, mentally cheering when he wasn’t pushed away when he put his hands on Harry’s forearms. “We were there from the moment the group of flaming chickens started to make you fight for them.” He used one hand to lift Harry’s chin so they were looking right at each other. There was so much pain in those green eyes. Crowley hated himself for putting it there. He hated Gabriel for not leaving the Winchesters alone. “You prayed. You prayed every night, begging for help. You’re lucky that Gabriel was the one that heard you. He came and watched them force you into a fight that you weren’t a part of-don’t even mention the horcrux. Gabriel took that parasite out of you the moment that he saw it.

He dragged me with him to watch as they drilled spell after spell into you. He healed you, every night he healed the worst of your injuries and we sat by your side as you begged for your father and your brothers. So I brought you the next best thing.”

“You guys were the ones who brought Bobby?!” Harry asked angrily.

Gabriel scratched at the back of his neck. “Yeah…that one backfired right in our faces. He wasn’t supposed to get caught by the Death Munchers. But they had werewolf scouts! Who would have thought?! And then you go trading places with Singer…in retrospect, we should have seen that one coming, Crowley.”

Said demon gave Gabriel an annoyed look. “You aren’t helping.” Gabriel shrugged as an apology. “Gabriel’s right, that was very poor planning on our part. When you traded places with Singer, we went to find someone else to help. Your brothers were so dense. I spent weeks leaving signs and hints trying to let them know where you were and they ignored them. I even turned off the power at one of their motels in response to one of Samuel’s prayers.”

“’One of?’”

“Yeah, he prayed every night. Sometimes he asked for a sign that you were alive, and I would respond, trying to get it through that thick skull of his that you were _not_ alright. Seriously, how does a black out mean that you’re safe or even alive?” Crowley asked, looking at Gabriel in confusion. Harry choked out a laugh when Gabriel responded with a shake of his head and said: “I have no clue. Maybe it’s because he spent so much time with Dean and not enough time with Harry.”

Harry took a few steps back from Crowley. “I…you two…god Gabriel I can’t believe you said that.” He laughed again, but sobered when he remembered that he was supposed to be angry at the other two men, not laughing and joking. “What I don’t get is why you two didn’t offer me your deal sooner. If you were there the whole time, why did you wait so long?”

It was Gabriel that answered him. “The deal was supposed to be last-option only; don’t you remember how dangerous it was? When Sasquatch and Princess never showed, we offered you the deal. I could have kept healing you, but staying there was taking more and more of a toll on you mentally. I couldn’t keep doing that to you. I might be a trickster, and sometimes I go overboard (Both Crowley and Harry gave him a flat look.) hey-hey-hey, there’s no need for the look! Anyway, I may go overboard from time to time, but those bastards usually deserve it. You didn’t.”

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look. I get it now. You have a personal vendetta against my brothers. But that doesn’t justify what you did. You promised me that Ohio was the end of this little pissing match with them and then you go and pop them into you little alternate reality worlds not once, but twice. Gabe, don’t you see the problem here?” The archangel was going to defend himself and Crowley, but he was cut off before a word even left his mouth. “Don’t. Before you even say it, this doesn’t magically make everything okay with me and Sam and Dean. Nor does your reasoning make me magically forgive what you did. Yeah, I’m still pissed at Sam and Dean, but I don’t think that they deserved what you did to them. Dean has less than a year to live, and Bobby told me what you did to Sam. You’re lucky that they haven’t started attacking you yet! In fact, you’re lucky that seeing me stunned them into forgetting that they have guns.

This is what’s going to happen: I’m going to get you two some dinner and you are going to stay in here, away from Sam and Dean. They are staying over for dinner-no, they probably haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in days-they’re staying over. DO NOT ARGUE WITH ME ABOUT THIS. If you see them at all you say nothing unless they say something to you. Actually, don’t even give them the chance to say anything, just pop into another room. Tomorrow they’ll leave and then you _will_ leave them alone. As for tonight, you two can take the bedroom, but I honestly cannot sleep in there tonight.”

“Harry-”

“Growley and I are going to camp out in one of the guest rooms. Got it? Good.” He said without waiting for a response. He turned around and walked out of the library, leaving two stunned beings behind him.

He honestly had no idea what prompted him to say that his brothers were staying the night. He wasn’t even sure how dinner with them would go. After about ten years apart, one dinner wasn’t going to solve all of their problems. In fact, he was about 600% sure that he had just created dozens of new-more fucked up-problems. But part of him felt bad for them. Dean was a dead man walking (even though it was entirely his brother’s fault), and Sam was going to lose him. Even though Harry could do nothing about the demon deal, he could offer a few good moments to his brother before he died.

*

The demon and the archangel stared at the door. To anyone who didn’t know them, they looked almost like robots. But really, they were just trying to process their emotions. Angels don’t feel the same way that humans do. They feel a small percentage of every emotion and some-like love, for they (most of them, anyway)love their father and siblings unconditionally-they feel more of, but they don’t get overwhelmed with emotions. Unless they fall, but that’s a different story. Even though Gabriel had been on earth for years and years and could experience emotions almost like a human, there were still times where he couldn’t quite process the correct emotional responses because he was feeling too many things at once.

And Crowley was Crowley. Being one of the few demons in touch with his old human emotions, he was still a cocky bastard and he was too proud to let people see him get too emotional.  

The minutes ticked by. They almost didn’t notice when two large plates of hot food, two empty glasses, and half of the cake that Harry had made appeared on the table.

Out of the corner of his eye, Gabriel saw the food, but for once he didn’t want to eat. He walked back to the chair that they had been previously sitting in and sunk into it, head buried in his hands. “We fucked up, didn’t we?”

Crowley nodded. He sat down near Gabriel and voiced the question that they were both thinking: “So, how do we fix this?”

*

The one problem that Harry now had with his house was the open floor plan. Yeah, the bedrooms and the bathrooms and the library all had doors, but other than that, there were no doors. Just giant holes connected by pillars that Crowley kept trying to convince him were arches. He could see his brothers and Bobby sitting at the table, but the only one who was eating was Bobby.

He took a deep breath. “Lord, give me strength.” He muttered to himself.

It took less than three steps for him to be noticed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, let me just say one thing. This chapter would have been out weeks ago, but for some reason, Microsoft Word decided to stop auto-saving. And then my computer rebooted erasing 4000 words and five and a half pages. I was very angry.


	5. Story time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sam and Dean have the mental capacity of five year olds and Bobby and Harry must entertain them. 
> 
> Not really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a lot shorter than previous chapters, and I apologize.

If you bugged Harry, and I mean really bugged him, not just asking him once or twice at the dinner table, but going full out Dean Winchester with the poking and the endless obnoxious questions. If you bugged him enough he would tell you about some family dinners with his brothers that weren’t total disasters.

He could tell you about the time their kind old (temporary) neighbor gave them a large chicken and a bag of potatoes. Harry spent hours cooking the chicken and Dean made half a dozen baked potatoes that were smothered in cheese, sour cream and bacon. They would sit at the tiny table of their cabin (one of the few times that John actually got some sort of house and not a cheap motel paid for a month or two) and Sam’s eyes would light up in delight as he set the table.

Another story he would tell would be of a time when it was just him and Sam. Dean and John were off on a hunt that was just too much for Sam and Harry was told to stay behind with him. They were at a motel, paid for the entire month surprise-surprise. Dean and John were supposed to be gone for only two and a half weeks, because Sam’s birthday was literally only days away. The hunt took longer than any of them expected, though. Sam woke up on his birthday and did his best to hide his disappointment. They waited all day for a sign that the other half of their family would arrive, but after hours and hours of nothing, they gave up. Harry had used the money that he was saving for a new magic book and had bought a pizza, Sam’s favorite soda, and a small birthday cake. It wasn’t much, but Sammy’s grin and child-like laughter was well worth it.

Now was definitely not one of those times.

Sam looked up at him with the strangest look that Harry had ever seen. He looked hurt and hopeful and altogether constipated.  The puppy eyes were, for once, out of place on his face. Dean looked as if someone had egged the impala-speaking of which, he would have to double check the garage or the driveway to make sure that the car made it back as well. He didn’t want to listen to Dean’s bitch-fit if it wasn’t there.

“Oh look, you decided to show up. You sure you don’t want to go running off for another ten years? Maybe find a nice vampire and a rubaru to shack up with?” Dean was the first to talk. It didn’t sting, or cause Harry immense guilt like his brother intended. The wizard scowled and took the unoccupied seat next to Bobby.  

“I was thinking fifteen years and adding a werewolf and a shifter into this harem that you think that I have.” Thank goodness for heating charms or else the lasagna would have been ice cold by now. Bobby gave him two thumbs up after putting another forkful into his mouth. Smiling, Harry started to fill his own plate, and two for Gabe and Crowley. “I’m glad you like it, Bobby.” He said quietly. This meal was intended for the older hunter, after all. It was his favorite (actually, Harry was pretty sure that Bobby didn’t have a favorite food and that he just liked all food as long as it was cooked right).

Gabe and Crowley’s plates nearly overflowing with food, Harry flicked his wrist and sent them off to the library. Dean twitched at the use of magic, drawing Harry’s attention to his brothers. He noticed that both of his brother’s plates were still empty. “You know, I didn’t send you here to sit like statues. There’s plenty of food here, eat something.” Sam just kept looking at him with those big puppy eyes, not moving and not blinking. Harry rolled his eyes and bit back a groan. It seemed that he was in the presence of two overgrown children.

With a snap of his fingers he had the two empty plates floating half a foot above the food. Harry dished out the food and he was momentarily reminded of the dozens of times that he had done this for them in the past (Yes, even Dean, the lazy bum). I guess you could say that he went on auto pilot.

Dean’s plate was all noodles and the top layer of mozzarella cheese and meat sauce and a few slices of warm bread. The ricotta cheese that held the layers together had been scraped off and placed on Sam’s plate because Dean had never acquired a taste for it. Sam loved it. His younger brother’s plate was and even fifty/fifty between pasta and salad, with two slices of bread off to the side.

Satisfied that the plates were sufficiently filled, he levitated the plates back to their respective owners. Neither of his brothers moved to pick up their forks, making Harry want to bang his head against the table. Seriously? Harry’s gone for a few years and suddenly they are the epitome of paranoia. “If you don’t start eating, I’m going to make you. With _magic_. We all know how much you hate my magic.” The frown on Bobby’s face could easily be ignored. The hard kick to his shin? Not so much.

Green eyes glared at the older hunter. “Ow!”  Bobby didn’t seem to notice. He just kept eating. “We’ll talk once we’re done.” Bobby said between bites.

Sam and Dean decided to eat. Whether it was because they were watching Bobby and Harry eating the same food, or they were just too hungry to let the food go to waste, Harry wouldn’t know. He was pretty sure that it was the latter.

In their entire lives, they had never had a more awkward dinner. No one spoke; the only sounds came from the silverware scraping against the plates and the occasional grunt of approval.

“That was delicious Harry.” Sam said quietly once his plate was all but licked clean. Harry smiled into his glass of Merlot. Sam eyed the extra food on the table hungrily.

“Thank you, Sam. Feel free to help yourself to more. Just save some room for dessert.” Sam didn’t need to be told twice. He reached out and filled his plate with the same amount of excitement as a child. Dean watched him almost like he was hoping that Sam wouldn’t take too much pasta. “Dean, you don’t have to worry. There’s enough for all of us to have thirds if we want it. I tend to make a lot when Bobby comes over so he has a lot of leftovers. I really need to teach you how to cook, Bobby.”

“If I lasted this long, I can last until I die. Besides, you give me enough leftovers to last me months. ”

Harry snorted.  Sam and Dean grinned at their father figure’s snark. “If I didn’t give you anything to eat, you’d either starve, or call Ellen asking for food and then she’d kick my ass for not feeding you.”

“You know Ellen?” Dean asked. Did everybody but the immediate family know that Harry was alive?!

Harry nodded, ignoring the furious look on Dean’s face. “There was a point where I was…really messed up. Bobby brought Ellen over, and that woman is a godsend. In fact I was planning on inviting her and Jo over soon for a family dinner.” He hadn’t meant it to come out that way; he was just saying what had come to his mind. Sam looked like a kicked puppy again and Dean looked even angrier than he had been before.

“Right. A nice little apple pie dinner with your nice little apple pie family.” Dean said bitterly.

Sam nodded in agreement. “Sound like a good time.” It was the hollow tone that he only used when he was really upset.

Bobby was not amused. He kicked Harry and Dean because they were the closest to him and then he picked up another slice of bread and threw it at Sam’s shoulder. “Enough, idjits. No arguing at the table; save it for later. I want to enjoy my damn dinner in peace.”

That shut the three brothers up.

They finished their meal in silence.  

*

Almost half an hour, and several plates of food and dessert later, Harry went about clearing the table. On any other night, he would have done it all by hand, but tonight he used magic to get all of the pans and dishes scrubbed and in the dishwasher (even though he absolutely hated doing that, and he wasn’t going to let either Crowley or Gabe find out because they wouldn’t shut up about the hypocrisy of it all). Any extra food was put in Tupperware for Bobby to take home with him.

“So…” Sponges were charmed to wash the table. They danced in front of Sam and Dean, making them fidget in their seats. If Harry got some amount of amusement from watching his brothers squirm, well he didn’t let it show.

“Shall we move to the living room?” Bobby had never seen his boys move so fast outside of a hunt.

The living room was just as obnoxiously big as the rest of the house, and just as expensively decorated. The couch against the wall was leather, large enough to fit all of them even though Sam and Dean were the only ones who sat on it. There was a matching loveseat on the adjacent wall (Bobby sat on that) with a very bright and exotic plant in the corner. Mounted on the wall across from the couch was a huge television. It was larger than the 72 in flat screen from the alternate reality place, but not drastically so. Around it was glass cases filled with movies and…were those video game systems? This was like one of Dean’s dreams come true.

“Would anyone like coffee?” Harry asked politely. He was planning on making some for him and Bobby anyway, a few more cups wouldn’t hurt. Sam said yes.

“You have any beer?” Sam and Bobby frowned at Dean.

“No, don’t like the taste of it.”

Frustrated, Dean grumbled about rich bastards with shitty tastes in alcohol.

 Harry rolled his eyes. “Yes, because piss flavored water is tasteful.” He had, unintentionally, quoted Crowley. The demon would not allow beer in the house because when they could have ‘real drinks’. Harry and Gabriel didn’t complain; the demon had very good (though very expensive) tastes.

The coffee was a Columbian blend, Bobby’s favorite even if he would never say it out loud. He brought out a tray with four steaming cups and cream and sugar. He placed the tray on the glass table, fixed a cup for both him and Bobby, and sat on the other half of the loveseat. Bobby gratefully took the mug when it was handed to him.

Sam and Dean took the other two cups, fixing them to their liking. They all quietly drank their coffee as they sat.

Finally, after what felt like a year, Sam put his mug back on the tray (he was too nervous to put it on the table and ruin it). “Harry, why did you…why didn’t you contact us? We thought you were dead.”

“I wanted it that way.” Was the nonchalant reply.

“You wanted it that way?” Dean repeated incredulously. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“What it means, Dean, is that I was messed up and _so angry_. I didn’t want you to know that I was alive because if I saw you I probably would have seriously injured you, or even killed you.”

“Harry, if you were messed up, you should have come to us. We would have helped you.” Sam said, trying to placate him. Hearing that his big brother might have killed him stung, this was one of the men who had taken care of him since their Mom died. Harry had always been the kind and nurturing one (Not that Dean wasn’t nice-even though he could be a real jerk at times- or nurturing, he just had a different way going about it). What had happened to his brother?

“Right, because the two of you have such a great fucking track record with helping me!” Sam flinched back as if he had been struck. A heavy hand landed on the wizard’s shoulder. Green eyes looked up at Bobby’s face, grim and stern all at once.

“Kid, you need to tell them so they understand why you’re angry. Bitchin’ and blamin’ them ain’t going to get your point across.”

“Tell us what?” Dean asked. He was starting to get frustrated. His leg bounced furiously, annoying Sam to the point where he had to clamp his hand on Dean’s knee to get him to stop.

“Calm down.” Sam whispered. He didn’t remove his hand.

Dean sighed and repeated his question. Both Harry and Bobby eyed Sam’s hand with a quick, curious look before they spoke.

“Why should I tell you two? Out of everyone, why you?” The middle brother asked bitterly.

“Hmm, maybe because we’re you’re family!” Sam’s hand tightened in an attempt to calm the older man down. It didn’t work.

“Oh, and what a fine fucking family I have! You know I get that you didn’t know about my magic being able to kill me-I really do, but you knew me well enough to know that I would _never_ leave unless I had to. You should have stayed by my side! Even now you say that you missed me; that you wanted to help me, but when I used my magic you looked so fucking uncomfortable and-”

“-BECAUSE WE WEREN’T SURE IF YOUR MAGIC HAD BEEN TAINTED BY THE DEMON AND THE TRICKSTER THAT YOU’RE FUCKING!”

Harry glared at Dean.  His eyes flashed dangerously and he had to claw at his pants in order to stop himself and his magic from lashing out. “My husbands saved my life.” His voice was the deathly calm of a man on the verge of going into a rage.

“Is that what they told you?”

“Is that what the dungeon thing was all about?” They spoke at the same time, but Harry decided to respond to Sam. Lord knows what would have happened if he and Dean kept going at it.

“Yes.” He nodded tightly. He was going to have words with Gabriel ( _again_ ) later about the lack of privacy thing he had. He sighed, deciding to just suck it up and tell his brothers the story since they had already seen part of it. “When Dad kicked me out, I was so angry and hurt and confused. I was going to go to Bobby’s house but I needed time to myself. So I walked. I walked away from the motel and I called Bobby to let him know what happened. That was probably one of the stupidest things that I have ever done. Bobby, don’t you dare nod.

While I was on the phone, I was ambushed. Fifteen properly trained wizards against me. I tried, I really did. I fought them until I was hit in the back of the head with a stunner. When I woke up, I was in this old manor in London-or at least, I was told I was in London. There was some escaped convict who kept saying that he was my god father (Dean flinched, curling against the back of the couch. Harry ignored this.) and that he missed me _so_ much and he thought I was dead. But he had his little Bambi back so everything was alright. I tried to tell him that I didn’t know him, and he pouted –actually pouted-but he understood. Then he started going on and on about a war and how I was going to fight the _Dark_ _Lord_ even though I wanted no part. Apparently, at one point, I had part of the bastard’s soul inside me.

They made me train. Day in and day out I was forced to train-someone used a really dark curse-I think it was called imperio…anyway, the curse made me do whatever they wanted me to. At the end of the day, they would lock me in my room with some food. The only people I would willingly talk to (I still do, too) were these twins: Fred and George. They played these vicious pranks on everyone because they felt sorry for me. To them, if I didn’t want to fight, I shouldn’t have been made to. Every day they came to talk to me, and when I finally trusted them enough, I told them what spell was being used on me. They were so pissed. They tried to help me fight it off. We tried every day, but their curse wasn’t as strong as the one that was put on me because they didn’t want to hurt me.” Here Harry stopped and let Bobby take over for a bit.

“I had a dream, and I met Gabe for the first time. He told me what was going on and where I needed to be. I woke up and was at the airport and on a plane to London within hours. When I landed, I didn’t go off to find a hotel, I went off and tried to finds something in Wizard-land that could help me save Harry. ‘Course I needed to find Wizard-land first. (The three brothers snorted at ‘wizard-land’.) I found it, the damn thing was near impossible to get to and I had to ask a wizard to open the ‘door’ for me. Paranoid bastards (“Like you’re one to talk.”). I found this bookstore, figured that there would be somethin’ there, the place was deader than a graveyard. The twins were there, I didn’t know them at the time, and they weren’t alone. Poor boys were off fighting the Death Munchers. I took out my gun-don’t ask how I got it on the plane, you really don’t want to know-and shot one of the bastards in the head. Killed him before he could kill one of the boys.”

“All magic leaves an impression. A signature, I guess you could call it.” Harry started up again. “The witches who got their magic from a demon deal have a distorted-vile signature. It’s almost like the magic is decaying. It’s disgusting. Demons have a dark, seductive magic. Tricksters’ are wild, mischievous, but also just. Shut up Dean.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You were about to, don’t deny it. Anyway. There are many other creatures out there, with their own signatures. People born with magic have varying levels of intensities of their signatures, depending on how powerful their magic is, and they can rub off on things and people that they come in regular contact with. Once upon a time, you two could have been confused for wizards yourself because you would have been completely coated with my magical signature.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Sam asked. He was entranced, eager to learn anything and everything he could about his brother and his world.

“Bobby was also covered. And my signature was really bright and distinct. The Death Munchers kidnapped Bobby and brought him to their leader.”

“Was?”

“Were you fighting aliens?”

“No Dean, I wasn’t fighting aliens. And we’ll get to that later Sam. Fred and George came back and found me and told me what had happened. Even though I wanted to blame them for not protecting Bobby, I couldn’t, they didn’t know him and they shouldn’t have been responsible for both themselves and Bobby. Two days later, the Dark Lord used Bobby as a bargaining chip. I surrender, and he lives. I surrendered in a heartbeat. Fred and George took Bobby and brought him home. They gave him healing potions and promised to try and help me. They were severely injured a few days later, though, and it took almost a year for them to heal.

The Dark Lord had one of his cronies shove a potion down my throat that bound my magic, preventing me from using it. I…for months I was tortured in almost every way possible, put back together again and then the torture started again. It felt like years and I remember crying out for help or for death every day. I called out for you two, for dad, Bobby, Fred and George, Mom, hell I even called out for god. But no one came. And then one day these two guys show up and offered to help me escape. I thought that they wanted to make a demon deal, because I’m not and idiot and I knew that Crowley was a demon. But they didn’t offer me a demon deal. What they offered me was almost taboo. But they had no choice…” He trailed off and stared unseeing at the wall. He remembered Gabriel explaining the whole thing to him. He remembered Crowley gently undoing the restraints on his wrists and rubbing at the abused flesh.

“What did they do, Harry?”

“Hm? Oh. Right. They bound me-my soul and my magic-to the both of them. It had to be the both of them because if I had only been bound to Crowley I would have been tainted and would have continued to taint me until I either turned into a demon or I died. And binding myself to just Gabe would have incinerated me on the spot. To be honest, the binding was merely theoretical. We weren’t one hundred percent sure that it was going to work, and in the end I almost died. But then our magics blended together, linking. Gabe and Crowley were able to give me enough magic to destroy all of those bastards…”

“So basically, they own you.” Dean said. There was no longer any disgust in his voice. How could he be disgusted with anyone but himself and Sam and their father? They sent Harry to hell on earth. He felt worthless, a disgrace to his brothers.

“If you want to be black and white about it, yes. But there’s more to it than just ownership. We share everything. Life, magic…while they are the ones that control how much of their magic I can use, I hold something far greater for them. But that is my secret.” He smiled softly-the first time since their conversation had started.

“What I don’t get,” Sam started after a few moments of silence. “is why did they have to bind you to them at all? If they’re so powerful, then why didn’t they just flush the potion from your system?”

Harry shrugged. He leaned back into the loveseat and stared at the ceiling. “They could have, I suppose. But I had that potion poured down my throat every day for months. My magic was like a hurricane trapped in a glass jar. If they had merely opened or broke the jar without any type of barriers, it would have destroyed everything in sight. Including me. Open the jar with enough protective reinforcements and eventually the jar will empty but the hurricane will calm.”

“That’s a shitty metaphor.” Dean pointed out. Harry grinned at him.

“Be that as it may, it took almost seven months before I could properly use my magic again. We had to let it out a little at a time or it would have gone nuts.” After a few more moments of silence, Harry found himself sandwiched between his brothers. He let out a small gasp when he heard the repeated chants of apologies that came from them. Sam’s face was buried in his shoulder, a few tears hit Harry’s shoulder, but Harry wasn’t going to say anything about it. Dean had his forehead pressed against Harry’s temple. Harry couldn’t remember a time when he had felt so awkward and uncomfortable (and dare he say, even _happy_ ) at the same time. Untangling himself from his brother’s grip, Harry excused himself, saying that he was going to get his dog because it was time to feed him. Sam and Dean reluctantly went back to the seat that they had previously occupied. When he was out of earshot, Sam and Dean turned to Bobby.

“You! You’re okay with this arrangement?!” The elder brother hissed.

“Not at first, ya idjit. The minute that they contacted me after coming back to the states I had the three of them in my house for months. Kept them under close observation. Believe it or not, Harry’s men dote on him, and that brother of yours keeps them in line...for the most part. I came to terms with this thing that they have going on a long time ago because it’s good for him and it’s better than him being dead. I think you should take that into consideration before you go off and start shootin’ somebody.”

Dean complained about the unfairness of it all, but he sent the other men a grin to let them know that he was kidding…mostly.

Any further conversation was cut off by the fierce growling of a dog.

“Where the fuck is that coming from?!” Dean asked as he went to grab his gun. Sam was doing the same.

Rolling his eyes at the two, Bobby reached out and awkwardly stroked…the air? “Easy there, ya old mutt. These two ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

It was Sam who caught on first. His hand went slack and he groaned. “Tell me that’s not what I think it is…”

Dean, leaning back and banging his head against the wall, let out a similar groan. “Married to a demon and a trickster, kick-ass mansion, a hell hound for a guard dog, the only thing that would make his life any more apple-pie would be a little hoard of rugrats running around.”

“Thank you,” Harry said as he walked back into the room. Though Sam and Dean couldn’t see it, they heard the hellhound let out a happy bark and run to their brother. Harry smiled, lovingly rubbing the dog’s head. “I am quite fond of my home. But I think Growley is more like an oversized lapdog than a guard dog.” Hesitantly, Sam asked if he could pet the dog-Growley. Harry nodded, taking his younger brother’s hand and placing it behind Growley’s ear. “He likes being scratched here.” Harry said quietly.

From his spot, Dean mumbled about uncreative pet names and traitorous brothers. It was all in good fun and the three of them were struck by how much they had missed this camaraderie.

But, as usual, there is something to mess up that feeling.

“So, any plans to make us uncles Harry?” Sam asked.

Harry stiffened. Bobby sighed. Dean looked on curiously and Sam felt as if he had stepped into unsafe territory.

“No. Not anytime soon. If ever.”

“I thought you wanted a couple of rugrats.” Dean piped in.

“Well, we can’t have everything that we want. Can we?” The hurt in his voice made Sam wish that he hadn’t opened his mouth. Suddenly, Harry smiled, tugging the hellhound away from his…family. “Come on baby, let’s get you something to eat. I bought you some nice big steaks at the store.” And with that, he left again.

“Don’t suppose you want to explain that?” Dean whispered to Bobby.

“I ain’t going to everything, but the three of them can have kids, if they want them. But if they did, they would be putting them in a lot more danger from just demons.”

“What else is there for them to be afraid of?”

Bobby stood up from the love seat, stretching until his back gave a satisfying pop. “Not my place to say. Well, I’m beat. Talk to you in the morning.”

“Night Bobby.”

“Night.”

“Night kid!” Bobby called out.

“Goodnight Bobby!” Harry replied.

Bobby walked away-presumably going to his room-leaving Sam and Dean to sit awkwardly alone as they waited for their brother to get back.

“Well that was…”

“Interesting?”

*

“And this will be your room, Dean.” Harry opened the door to a room that was bigger and more lavish than any motel that they had ever stayed at. Big fluffy, queen sized bed; flat screen television (a lot smaller than the one in the living room but still huge); fancy wood furniture that all matched; and beautifully patterned blankets that matched the curtains. “I’ll go to the impala and get your bags. Now Sam, your room-”

“-Sam’s staying with me.” Dean cut in. Both of his brothers looked at him in surprise. (No, his cheeks did not redden, Harry and Sam were just colorblind. Both of them. Or mad. Yes, they were definitely mad!) Dean shifted from foot to foot, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Not that we don’t trust you that we’re safe and all, but I’m a paranoid bastard. I would rather have Sam stay with me.”

“Dean, there’s only one bed.” Sam pointed out.

“So? We slept together on a couch a few hours ago.”

Harry looked between his brothers as if he was trying to find something. What he was looking for, Dean wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “Is there…something going on between you two? Because I won’t care if there is, and I am in no position to judge but-”

“-Dean’s just being paranoid. That’s all. We’re not…” Sam wildly gestured between himself and his oldest brother. “together. And why would you be okay with that? We’re brothers! You’re brothers! You should hate us!” Sam’s face flushed when he realized what he had just implied. Dean’s face was also suspiciously red (but he wasn’t blushing. Blushing is for chick flicks and this was certainly no chick flick).

“I’m married to two men; two beings that some would consider monsters. And, though they can be dicks, I do love them. We can’t help who we love.”

“How did you legally marry two men?” Finally remembering the question that had bothered him since being reunited with his brother.

“Oh my god Dean!” Harry laughed. “If you shut up and go to bed I’ll tell you in the morning.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Goodnight, Dean. Sam, would you like your own room, or are you staying in here?”

Sighing, Sam walked to the door. “I have no choice. If I get my own room, Dean will just kidnap me while I sleep.”

“Yeah, Sam, don’t make me sound like a creep or anything.”

Harry shook his head at the two. They bickered like an old married couple, acted like five year olds, and had the subtlety of a kid with a crush. “Well, I’m going to be in the room across the hall. Bobby’s next door. If you need anything, let me know. I’m going to get your bags now. Goodnight, boys.”

“Night.”

“We’re _men_ , not boys!”

*

Thankfully, Gabe had put the impala in the garage. Probably trying to avoid another argument. It was unlocked-as always-and it only took moments for him to get the bags. It had been so long since he had seen the old car. He couldn’t help but rune his fingers over their initials that they had scratched onto one of the doors. He was surprised that his initials hadn’t been scratched or burned off. The car had the same leather and gunpowder and coffee smell that he had once associated with home, but there was a new underlying smell of beer and sweat and something that made Harry’s stomach churn and heart ache. It was the scent of a dead man walking.

After everything that had happened in the past few hours, Harry had almost forgotten about the demon deal. He kind of wished that there was something that he could do for his brother, but realistically, there was nothing.

Sighing, he grabbed the bags and shut the door. He apparated near his brother’s room and with a smirk that would make his husbands proud, magically transported the bags into their room.

“JESUS CHRIST!”

He laughed all the way to his guest room. 


End file.
